Apologies are Worthless
by dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Two father figures deal with what it means, to have to hurt the children in their care, and to betray a trust. Because sometimes, apologizing for what you do isn't enough.


**Apologies Are Worthless**

**Summary: **There are some things that can't be mended through apologies. Some things that hurt more to try to apologize for, than to live with. Two men find out what it means to break their adopted children's hearts, and the price that each must pay. And that, sometimes, love is just powerful enough. Shigure and Kazuma POV on the last three episodes of the anime.

**Chapter One: Shigure**

He'd known, the instant Kazuma had told him of his plans. This was going to hurt. Hurt all of them. Kyo. Kagura. Kazuma. Himself. Even Yuki, much as the Rat might not want to admit it.

And Tohru. It was going to hurt Tohru. He couldn't even imagine what this was going to do to her. He'd put her in the path of difficult things, knew Akito had done so as well. Akito had tried, early on, to get Hatori to force Tohru away, either by his words, or by pushing the doctor to erase Tohru's memories for her own good, as he had once done with Kana. But this...this was going to hurt.

How long ago? How long, since he had told Tohru that he didn't intend to hurt her? He had meant it even then. God...he had meant it even when he'd taken her in, his heart wrenched by all that she had gone through. And now...a part of him wanted to warn her, to tell her, maybe even find an excuse to get her out of Kazuma's path. Even if it was a manufactured excuse.

And yet...Kazuma was right. This had to happen at some point. Unless Tohru could accept the worst of them, including the cat's curse, then there was no chance for any of them. Including Tohru. He knew she'd never give up on them, that she genuinely wanted to help them. That she genuinely cared for all of them, all the Sohmas that she'd met. Even Hiro, who was quite honestly a brat when he was around her.

He heard Kazuma ask Tohru for a moment of her time, out in the garden. Heard Kazuma call Kyo and ask him to come outside for a moment. Heard the door to the back garden open and close. He wanted to turn away, wanted to plug his ears and hide his face. He didn't know if the urge came from fear, or from shame at what he was about to do, what he was about to let happen. In any case, he couldn't look away. In fact, as he heard Tohru shuffling around to go out, as he heard the raised voices in the garden, Kazuma and Kyo, heard Kyo's shouts, filled with hate and self-loathing, he found himself going to the window, leaning against it. Listening, as Kyo blamed Yuki for everything, as Kazuma chided him.

He heard Kazuma berate Kyo, telling him not to run, telling him he would lead him to discover the truth.

He saw it happen, all of it.

He saw Tohru step out on the porch. He saw Kazuma, the swift slap to the face that caused Kyo to flinch back, the quick yank as the martial arts master stripped the protective beads from his adopted son's wrist.

Saw Kyo fall to the ground, howling, as the change overtook him. Heard the anguished scream: "Don't look at me!" But he was looking, because he couldn't do anything else.

He saw Tohru, eyes wide in shock as she watched Kyo's transformation. Saw the shock hit her, the sight, the smell. Saw it as Kyo ran from her, bolting from the place where she stood, transfixed by what she had witnessed, the secret Kazuma had so forcibly revealed. He heard Kazuma's questions. Then she was running, running into the night.

He could see her fear, her pain, all the terrible emotions that hadn't quite caught up with her as she bolted. He knew, from past experience, that they'd catch her soon enough. The knowledge of that, of the shock it would be, was like a blow to his own gut. His heart was aching as Tohru disappeared into the rain, aching for this innocent girl he had allowed to see one of their darkest truths.

Then, he felt it. Akito, somewhere nearby. He had always been aware of the head of Sohma Family. The curse tied them together, and while he lacked Hatori's gift, he did possess some of his own. Like a dog, he was capable of sensing people he knew, and their moods. And now...he sensed Akito, a brooding, gleeful malevolence in the darkness. Knew that Akito had seen everything, and enjoyed it. Knew what Akito would do next, in a mood like this. Such a mood would have the head of the Sohmas following Tohru, to drive the knife home.

That drove him out into the rain. He had promised that he would not interfere with Kazuma. He could hardly deny Kazuma the right to place his hopes in Tohru, not after he had given the girl so many of his own burdens, little though she knew it. But Akito...Akito could destroy her. Akito had a way with words that could twist them, turn them into knives that could shred a soul, especially one as vulnerable as Tohru was right then. That...he couldn't let it happen. Not if it was in his power to prevent it.

He was too late. He found them, and he was too late. Akito was leaning over Tohru, and even in the gloom he could see the younger man was drenched. Could see the mocking smirk on his face. Akito had spoken. He didn't have to know what he'd said, to see the devastating results. The smirk, the sneer on Akito's mouth, the mocking 'Thanks to you, I'm completely soaked'...those were enough to tell him.

He watched the light of Akito's car play over Tohru. Deliberate, he knew, Akito showing him what he had wrought. Tohru, bedraggled, mud-splattered, doubled up over a tree root, leaning against it in a manner that looked utterly and completely broken, even without seeing her face.

He had thought it would hurt, but he hadn't been prepared. Anguish struck him, burned through him. "Tohru...I..."

What could he say? How could he even begin to cover this? He hadn't warned her. He hadn't prepared her. He hadn't done anything except watch this happen. She had asked him, more than once, if there was something that was needed. All he'd ever said was 'be yourself' and 'it's too soon to tell you'. And now...Kyo's transformation had shaken her to her core, and who knew what poison Akito had spewed into her ears, what words he had used to try and break her.

"I...I'm sorry." Such meaningless words, in the face of such pain. And he had helped cause it. He had set her on this path, chosen to bring her into their world, convinced Akito to let her stay, even knowing the tragedies that had come before. Agony and shame seared through him, bringing him to his knees in the mud. _What have I done?_

"I...I thought..." He heard himself begin the broken apology, and stopped.

He thought...what? He thought it was right? He thought she could save them? He did, but...that scarcely mattered. He'd thought he could spare her? It wasn't true. He'd known that this, or something like it, was inevitable. He'd thought he could help her weather Akito's venom? He'd known better than that. He couldn't even protect his own family members.

He had to speak the truth. He owed her that. He felt his eyes stinging, his throat aching, as he bent forward. Not just kneeling, but begging. Even if she couldn't see him. His hands pressed into the rain soaked earth as the words ripped from his throat, an unbidden confession. "No...I knew. I knew."

He had known he would hurt her. They would hurt her. Had known that, however accepting Akito seemed, he would try to destroy her. Had known he was using her, a last hope to save his family. Had known Akito would use her to encourage, then break the younger Sohmas. Had known that Akito would break her too, as a lesson, and for the sheer perverse joy of it, claiming it was a lesson in 'not meddling' with the Sohmas.

He had known. No matter how he lied to her, himself, or the others. He had known. And it hadn't stopped him. Not once.

There was no apology that could possibly cover this. Nothing. That knowledge was torture.

No apology, but...there was one thing he had to say.

"Tohru...please...let's end this!" Whether he meant the curse, or the silence that stretched between them in that awful moment, centuries of pain or simply this one terrible night, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was begging, begging as he had never pleaded with anyone in his life. Honest as he had never been with anyone else, letting his words and his tone reveal the pain and tortured misery he had hidden from her, the anguish and suffering that had driven him for so long. "End this!" he didn't care if she never spoke to him again, if she struck him, cursed him. Anything.

He looked up. Tohru was rising. Turned away from him.

Tears stung his eyes, and he let them fall. Mud and rain soaked him, his hair, his hands, his feet, drenched and stained his robes. He didn't care. "Please...I know it's hard..."

She was walking away, and he could not stop her. He bit his lip. Then wept the last words into the rain, to follow the staggering form. "I know it's painful...but you can."

He couldn't tell, as she disappeared into the night, if she had heard him. She didn't acknowledge his words in any way.

Why should she? After what he had done, and not done.

He knelt in the rain, forehead and fists pressed into the mud, and wept. Wept for her. Wept for the Sohmas, his family, twisted and driven by the curse. For Akito's fury, and the innocents it damaged. For Kyo. For Yuki and Hatori. For Ayame and Kazuma and all the others.

He wept for Tohru,for the girl he had let be trapped in this web, for everything he had forced her to endure. Their secrets. Yuki's needs, Kyo's anger. His own carefully hidden insecurities and griefs. Kazuma's desperation. Hatori's pain, Ayame's soul-searching. All the burdens he had laid at her feet, or encouraged others to lay upon those young shoulders.

He wept for the burden of their family, placed in Tohru's arms in the slim hope that this child, who had come through so much and still smiled, who could touch his heart, would be able to support them.

He had thought, once, that he would apologize to her, when the time came. Had thought she'd get angry, or frightened, and that he would apologize and make amends. He knew better now.

There _was_ no apology he could make, nothing he could say, that would make this right. Nothing could erase the knowledge he had forced upon her, the pain she would go through, was going through, for the sake of the Sohma family. If she turned away from them, ran away from the Sohma house forever, he would deserve it. If he was forced to take her before Hatori, to suppress her memories to prevent the pain from destroying her, he would deserve both the agony of watching it happen, and Hatori's rage over it. If she never spoke to any of them again, never smiled at any of them, if she reviled them and turned her back on them, he would deserve it. If she raged and screamed and wept at him, as Kagura sometimes did, then he deserved every word, every blow, every scream and accusation.

He had never thought to find himself in a place where there was nothing he could say. Even in the blackest moments, trying to salvage Yuki's self-esteem, trying to nurse Hatori through the pain of his lost vision and his lost love, he'd had words. But here...explanations meant nothing, and apologies were worthless.

All he could do now, was wait. No matter what happened, Tohru would need help, eventually. Whether a miracle occurred, and she was able to embrace Kyo's true form, or not, she would return. Even if it was only to collect her belongings and leave them.

Whatever happened, he would support her, do his best for her. He owed her that much, at least. That knowledge dragged him out of the mud, sent him staggering back through the rain towards his house. He needed to be there for Tohru, no matter what the outcome of this night was.

He spent the sleepless hours in the agony of recriminations. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the pain, saw the memories. Memories of laughter, of a bright, somehow innocent child who had come and changed all of them so much. Saw a broken form in the rain, weeping, wide shocked eyes filled with the beginnings of tears. Those few times he could drive away the memories, he spent in prayer, begging for a miracle. He didn't deserve it, he knew, but the prayer wrenched from him just the same.

It was dawn when he heard the footsteps in the yard. Heard Kazuma collapse in the mud. His chest was aching, heart pounding as he raced out to see the results of the night. He felt almost ill, afraid the risen sun would reveal a battered, broken child on his front step. A girl with haunted eyes, a broken silent orange-haired boy, or a wide-eyed and silver-haired youth who had simply seen too much and been unable to help.

Tohru was there, smiling, an orange cat cradled in her arms, purring. Behind her, Yuki walked, injured but at peace, contented, even smiling just a little.

He had received his miracle. Something, he didn't know what, and wasn't even going to begin to believe it was him, had been enough. Tohru had been enough, had loved them enough, had mustered enough courage. He found himself laughing, giddy with relief, too shocked to do anything but laugh hysterically into his hands, because if he didn't laugh he'd weep, and this was no time or place for tears.

He helped them into their rooms, helped Kagura tend to them. He half carried Tohru up the stairs himself, mindful of not getting too close. He looked at a sleeping child, and felt the awareness of the night reassert itself.

There was no apology he could make, for what he had done. For the pain he had put her through, nor what he had asked of her, kneeling in the rain. For the burdens he had forced her to bear. But he could, and would, from now on, support her, help her. He would be honest, no matter what it cost him. He would help her do whatever needed doing. For her sake, even if it broke him in the end.

_**Author's Note: **He insisted. Really. In terms of the anime, this is a very rare glimpse into Shigure's true feelings. I wanted to explore it further. _


End file.
